“To do what in the forest though?” I ask as I trail Alex through the castle. ”You’re not going to like, stab me from behind when we get there or something, right?”

It’s a joke but not really a joke, if you know what I mean.

Alex manages to both nod at the front gate guards and roll his eyes at me, which is quite a talent.

“If I wanted to do that, I would’ve done it by now,” he says.

Note that’s not an answer, by the way.

But I keep following him out of the castle and through the town anyway. I do sort of trust him. More to the point, the not-trust-him option has sort of flown the coop.

As a pleasant surprise, the town around the Keep seems to have come out rather well. Granted, I’m not that familiar with what it looked like prior to the attack, so maybe I’m not the right judge here. But aside from some distinctly singed-looking houses and broken structures, it’s hard to tell anything big had happened here at all. The square we walk straight into is packed with people chattering with each other or bartering with stall that rim the perimeter.

And sure, some folks do look a little grim—but maybe it was disrespectful or something to smile while the Lord Alexandrius is passing. They all bow and cast their eyes downwards as he cuts through them like he’s Moses parting the Red Sea.1

I have no idea where we’re going, obviously. But the main cobblestone street turn into a dirt road, then a smaller dirt road, the houses having been long left behind. Just as I register that I recognize this path, we take a turn, and—that's the Morrell's cabin.

“Why are we here?” I hiss at Alex as the building comes into view. It’s clearly occupied, judging by the woman figure I see in the window and the smoke coming from the chimney.

Alex answers without stopping his walk up to the cabin. I have no choice but to keep up with him, even though all I want to do is turn straight around. “To reassure your—Aurelia’s mother of your well-being. She’s been asking incessantly and refusing to take anyone’s word about it. She’s a sharp woman. News spread that you stayed last night with guards outside your doors, and she told me she found the cabin ransacked when she returned.” I remember my vision, her panic in it, and flush. “She knows there’s more to the story, and she’s afraid. So we’re going to set her mind at ease. Just stay as silent as you can and let me speak. ”

Which makes sense, on the concerned-mother level. But not on Alex-taking-me-here level.

“Is she some sort of leader in the town? Will she like, stir up commoners with speculation or something? Is that why you’re going out of your way to soothe her?” I ask. Given Alex’s penchant for ignoring commoners and giving orders, I would’ve expected him to totally ignore her.

Alex glares at me. “She’s Aurelia’s mother,” He raises a fist to rap three times on the door before I can think, let alone yelp, that I need to prepare.2

The door flings open right away. On the other side, Mrs. Morrell stand, with two hands clutched tightly in her apron.

“Uhm, hi, mo—“

Mrs. Morrell throws her arms around me.

“Aurelia,” she says, tucking my head into my neck. “Thank God you’re safe. Oh, I was so worried! And when others at the castle said you’d met with the Duke and Duchess—and that you’d been imprisoned—“

Her shoulders are heaving. I don’t have to be able to see her face to know she's likely crying.

Hugging her isn’t very much like hugging my mom, physically. For one, my mom is much shorter than Mrs. Morrell. For another, my mom always smelled like jasmine perfume. Mrs. Morrell smells like burning wood and herbs instead, with the slightest medicinal edge. She helped the wounded yesterday, Alex had said.

Still. The hug makes something in my heart clench, in a way that I resist digging into right now.

“I did say she was safe and unharmed, Mother Morrell,” Alex says.

Mrs. Morrell pulls herself back. Her cheeks really are tear-stained. She doesn’t bother wiping the tears away, just keeps looking at me like she can’t tear her eyes away. She tucks a loose lock of Aurelia's hair back.

“What have you gotten yourself into, Aurelia?” she whispers.

I bite my lip—and flick my eyes towards Alex.

Standing very close behind me, he puts an arm around my shoulder and squeezes. “The matter of the attack and what is to be done now is… complicated. My parents have ordered Aurelia to stay in the Keep for the foreseeable future. So I'm afraid you may not be able to see her for some time.”

I look at him again—this time to glare. How is that supposed to help this poor woman not worry about her daughter?

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But Mrs. Morrell only sniffs, and clasps Alex’s free hand.

“I know you’ll keep her safe. Won’t you, Alex?” she says.

It does not escape my attention that Mrs. Morrell addresses him by his given name, rather than the “Lord Alexandrius” or “milord” I’ve been hearing everywhere.

Alex’s hand clenches in her grip.

“I’ll bring her back, safe and unharmed,” he promises.

He looks over at me, pointedly.

I hesitate. Should he actually promise her that? Should I?

But Alex might as well be tapping an impatient finger. And Mrs. Morrell is looking back at me now. I can see her notice my hesitation, the concern starting to etch itself back onto her face.

“I’ll be back, please don’t worry,” I say. And give her another hug.

We leave mere moments after, Alex making apologies and saying that we had more to do for the morning.

I can’t help sneaking glances at him. It makes sense, in retrospect, that he’d know Mrs. Morrell well. I just hadn’t—

His tone had been so strange, placating and soft. The closest I've heard was when he talked to ‘Aurelia’ outside the church. But even then, he’d been angry, and firm. His tone with Mrs. Morrell didn’t square with the image I have of this Alex, and certainly not Alex Prime.

I’m so preoccupied I don’t notice we’re not going back to the main road until Alex is taking me straight into the thicket of trees, where there is barely a trail.

“Wait, where are we going? Isn't the Keep like, that way?” I wince as a particularly stubby branch stab me in the stomach.

Alex rolls his eyes. “Didn’t I say we had more to do this morning? And we’ll have more privacy out in the forest to speak.”

He keeps walking.

I roll my eyes at how much he seems to enjoy the 'mystique' of getting to dictate where we go. But I follow.

It’s much colder underneath the dense foliage than it was out in full light of the morning sun, and I pull the cloak Alex had thrown at me tighter around my body as we go. I guess Alex really isn’t a bad boyfriend to Aurelia, if you ignore the… immaturity and dormant psychopathy.

“We’re here,” Alex declares from a little in front of me, and then we're walking straight into an almost-perfectly circular clearing.

He waves at it vaguely. “Aurelia and I often practiced here.3 We discovered this clearing ourselves as children."

He walks into the clearing's middle, where the ground is so well-trodden that it’s almost entirely barren of grass, and drops the scroll he’s been holding.

In front of me, the whole of Mediusterra unfurls. The massive Silverwood duchy, its shape leaping out of the northeast thanks to the glittering gold outline the mapmaker had given it;4 the Hannu territories sprawling from its northern borders and off the map; Augusta to the east, backed against the Nera river; and the Great Sea, cradling the entire peninsula.

Alex studies the map for a moment.

“Well, Gemma Tran,” he says. “Time to prove your worth."

He turns towards me. "Tell me about the future. Specifically, my future. And why and how, with our family line nearly extinguished, history still remembers the Silverwoods.”

It takes me a little bit of time to process that.

It’s—actually a pretty smart inference, once I catch up. Like, if most of Alex’s family was supposed to die and their stronghold razed, there’s no reason for anyone in the future to remember the Silverwoods. Not unless history has a reason to remember them.

And since I know about Alex and his Elemental powers, that reason having to do with him is a pretty good bet. I mean, if you think about it, we don’t exactly remember Henry VIII brutally executing any random noble right? We mostly remember him executing Anne Boleyn. And even then, she’d only be a fun factoid if the dude hadn’t also gone and split with the Catholic Church over her.

Of course, it’s absolutely the wrong inference.

But given what the real answer is—that I’m just casually living in a novel, and he just happens to the protagonist of that novel, and his family isn’t so much important as part of his oh-so-tragic backstory... I’ll give him the smart points for it.

So now, the only question is: do I tell him? How much do I tell him?

If I tell Alex, with the level of detail that I possess, then I’ll definitely ‘prove my worth’—and probably strengthen Alex's plot armor.

On the other hand, the only advantage I have over Alex is my knowledge. If I tell him, I'll be giving that advantage up.

But. On the other other hand... An echo of his tone with Mrs. Morrell comes back to me. He'd promised to bring Aurelia back and keep her safe. And he's sounded like he'd meant every word. Of course he probably means the real Aurelia and not me; but it'll be easier for him to do that, if he knows as much as I know.

I can't see how hoarding this knowledge will help me anyway, like, on a practical, concrete level. This way, it’s at least be useful in earning his trust, and make us better allies. And we'd promised to work together. Like I said, the decision to trust him's been made.

Who knows, maybe hearing about Alex Prime's more psychopathic tendencies might help Alex, I don't know, reach his goals without activating that side of him.

I look down at the ground. Then with a sigh, I plop down and fold my legs under me. My shift will definitely get dirty. But this seems like it'll be a long conversation, and I’m not going to be the one doing the laundry anyway.

“Not the future,” I remind him. “The alternate future. So like, what I know may or may not happen anymore.”

Alex, after a pause, sits down opposite me, on the other side of the map.

“Go on,” he says.

“Okay.” I take a deep breath. “So, you were—would have been?—the first Mage-King. But it’s not a pleasant story.”

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1. Although Moses was probably more impressive and less insufferable about it than Alex. He doesn’t even bother acknowledging them, just breezes past with his head tilted nobly up like they’re not even there. I find myself nodding back for him, just to be polite, even if it does make me feel a little like I’m doing a clucking chicken impression.

2. A mother's instincts are scary. I'd managed to pass as her daughter last time, but only for ten minutes. And clearly I'm not fooling anybody with my acting. Alex and Luke had immediately become suspicious of me.

Honestly, at this point I probably should just avoid everyone who’s ever known Aurelia here.

Mrs. Morrell finding out would be the worst too. I already feel bad enough about taking Aurelia's body without her mom being angry with me about it.

3. Practice and—if the novel flashbacks are anything to go by—‘practice.’ Lots of knocking each other to the floor in hand-to-hand combat, ending with laughing in each other’s arms, apparently. (Way too sappy at the time I'd read about it, but sort of cute now if I think about Alex and not Alex Prime).

4. Bit flashy, that. I can’t tell if the metallic gold effect is from gilding, or like, enchantment. Maybe both, knowing how stupidly rich this family is. Makes it rather obvious who the map belongs too. Which isn’t a bad anti-theft strategy, I guess, if that’s what they’re going for.